This Old House (we'll love it together)
by TheReluctantShipper
Summary: Castiel Novak buys a fixer-upper, determined to do all of the work by hand. When he realizes he's in over his head, he enlists the help of the local hardware store owner. The problem? The owner is an alpha. [Human!AU, A/B/O, mpreg]


_\- This is (obviously) a work of fanfiction. I don't own anything but the original characters. I don't claim ownership over the characters or storyline of the TV show Supernatural, no matter how grateful I am for them, which is hella._

 _\- Thanks to the Sister Husbands, who are my best friends in the whole world, and happen to be gracious enough to also beta most of my works for me. I don't know what I'd do without you girls, but I certainly wouldn't be doing this._

 _\- The town of Dempsey, Kansas is absolutely, 100% a figment of my imagination. To my knowledge, no such place exists._

 _\- Specific trigger warnings in the end notes._

* * *

"Castiel," Michael's voice is gentle. "It's a little… Rundown."

Gabe is less concerned about Cas' feelings. "It's a shitshow."

The Novak brothers are standing in the middle of a kitchen that, admittedly, has been a bit neglected.

"I don't care," Cas says firmly. "This is what I want. Not to mention I've already signed the papers, it's a bit late to start expressing concerns now."

He can see the way his older brothers glance at one another in his peripherals, but he pointedly ignores them. He knows they won't say no to him. Not after the last six months.

"All right," Michael says finally. "Let's start unloading, then."

* * *

 _You're not nervous,_ Cas insists to himself that night as he watches darkness fall through the big front windows of his new house. The first thing he and his brothers did was hang the sheer curtains so he can watch the surrounding woods settle into the night unseen.

 _You're not some silly omega,_ he chides himself, refusing to fidget like he wants to. _You're a grown ass man._

He stays there until almost midnight. Once he feels like the point he was trying to make to himself is sufficiently made, he goes up to bed on the mattress he's put on the floor of what will be his bedroom.

The next day, Cas gets up early to get to work on his fixer-upper. _("That's being a bit generous," Gabe said when Cas first called it that.)_ He decides to start at the top floor and work his way down.

* * *

The house, set far enough into the woods that Cas can't see the rest of the town from here, has three bedrooms on the top floor. He's claimed the biggest for his own, of course. The other two will be a guest room (not that he expects much use of that one) and a library (there will be _much_ more use for that). His bedroom has an attached bathroom, and this is where Cas starts.

Armed with spray bottles, rags, a dust mask, a mop, and a bucket, he tackles cleaning the old house with vigor. He scrubs the bathroom within an inch of its life. Only the stains from disuse in the tub remain when he's done. The rest of it sparkles.

His bedroom comes next. He keeps a small notebook in the back pocket of his torn up jeans to make a list of projects to be done. The first is to tear down the wallpaper, which is exceptionally ugly and dated. The hardwood floors can stay, but he knows enough to know that they need _some_ kind of attention, just not what that attention should be. A lot of question marks get added to the list.

He cleans the other two bedrooms with the same fervor. The only new things added to the lists are shelves for the library. He has bookshelves, but he'd like built-in shelving from wall to wall through the whole room.

On his way down the stairs, he notes that the bannister is wobbly and unreliable. The third, fifth, and eighth stairs squeak, and the thirteenth needs to be replaced completely, he suspects.

The ground floor is in worse shape. Some of the wood flooring is stained beyond repair, and more of that terrible paper is on every wall. Some outlets need to be replaced. There's a crack in the window above the kitchen sink, and all of the appliances need to be updated.

His work is definitely cut out for him.

It's not until late afternoon that he realizes that he was so excited to start work that he didn't eat breakfast, and in fact hasn't consumed anything all day. He's suddenly starving and parched, and he's in no mood to prepare his own food.

 _I should check out the town, anyway,_ he thinks, a bit wary but determined nonetheless.

* * *

They're told that before the modern era, alphas and omegas made up the majority of the population. Hormones reigned supreme, apparently, with alphas taking omegas on the streets, the latter living in fear of being claimed by a stranger with no way to know the temperament of their new mates, only that they were taken violently and often against their will. Horror stories.

The dynamic, however, proved too unstable to stand the test of time. Betas, level-headed, completely absent of mating hormones, and almost completely free of the keen sense of smell that alphas and omegas possess, came out on top. As humanity is wont to do, the unstable elements began to die out, and the survivors won. Alphas and omegas are much rarer these days. Most people go through puberty experiencing just that – puberty.

Castiel presented when he was sixteen. His first heat was a miserable, almost fatal experience. His parents, though loving and supportive, were both betas. They had no idea to do with their youngest son, who had so suddenly presented as an omega.

He got through it, though, and he got on suppressants as soon as he was coherent. While in the past, suppressants were riddled with terrible side effects and possible long-term damage to reproductive systems, these days they're much milder. His hormones are kept in check, and he's at no more risk of infertility than a beta woman on regular birth control.

Most importantly, he doesn't have to go through heats. It's worth every penny.

He still uses scent-blocking deodorant, though, because even if there's a very slim chance of running into an alpha or omega in this random little town in Kansas, there's still a _chance._

Cas shakes off the memories that he says don't haunt him _("Freak!" "Bitch!" "Slut!")_ and walks out of the house to go to town.

* * *

The town of Dempsey, Kansas is small. It's just half an hour away from Lawrence. Cas chose it because it's quiet, sparsely populated, the house he fell in love with is just a few minutes away from town, and it's at least three hours away from his well-meaning but stifling brothers.

It's the best of several worlds.

Cas pulls his Continental into a parking space on the main street. There's only one row of businesses in town, and it's so incredibly quaint that it takes a moment for it to sink in.

There's a butcher's shop and deli, a grocery store, a hardware store, a doctor's office, and a law firm on one side of the street. A used bookstore, a salon, a dry cleaner's, a restaurant, and a mechanic grace the other side. Further down, he can see a police station across from a firehouse, next door to a post office. On the opposite end of town, Cas knows there are a couple of denominations of churches, as well as two gas stations that are directly across the street from one another. That makes no sense to Cas _(how can this tiny town support_ two _gas stations, much less right across from each other?)_ but he likes it anyway.

The weather is nice, the sun shining and actual, literal birds are chirping. Cas has always lived in big cities, so this kind of fresh air and domestic cleanliness is new, if a bit unsettling.

He walks to the restaurant and smiles as he enters. This place, too, is incredibly charming. The walls are a soft white, the floors dark wood. The five tables are a light-colored oak, and the chairs are mismatched in a way that somehow manages to be harmonious.

A pretty, vivacious blonde woman seats him quickly. She's funny in a sort of dry, cutting way, and Cas falls easily into conversation with her. He's late for the lunch rush but a bit early for dinner, so he's the only patron in the restaurant. Jess, as she introduces herself, sits and talks while he eats.

Though Cas usually has difficulty connecting to people, Jess is friendly enough for the both of them. He finds himself talking about his journalism career and his brothers. He tells her about moving here, finding the little house he loves so much, and the uphill battle he faces with the renovation.

Her warm face lights up. "Oh! Sam and Dean can help!"

Cas cocks an eyebrow in response.

"My husband and his brother own the hardware store!" she gushes. "Sam's at the counter today!"

"Is he normally elsewhere?"

Jess nods. "Sam's actually a lawyer, but the kid who works the store, Kevin, had some sort of test today. His mom's really strict about his grades, so he asked off for it. _Anyway,_ Sam's great, a super genius about stuff like this. I bet he'd love to help!"

Amused by Jess' chatterbox tendencies, Cas smiles. "And what about Dean?"

Her smile fades just a bit, but Cas notices and feels a little bad about being the cause of it. "Well, Dean's a carpenter, slash handyman, slash electrician, slash whatever else anyone needs. He's kinda quiet. Not that he won't help you!" she hurries to explain. "It's just that Dean might not… Well, Dean has a hard time with people."

"As do I, Jessica."

"What did I tell you about calling me Jess?"

* * *

Armed with Jess' phone number punched into his phone and a promise to call her as soon as he gets a chance, Cas crosses the street to the hardware store after lunch. The words Winchester's Hardware are written across the awning in faded, cheerful letters. There's a little bell on the door that makes a happy _ding_ when Cas enters, looking around.

It looks like any other small town hardware store. The shelves are clean and orderly, though, with clear labels on the signs hanging above them. When Cas turns toward the counter, there's a golden retriever laying in a patch of sunlight.

As he approaches, the big dog gets to his feet and greets Cas with a friendly _woof._ Smiling, Cas crouches down to pet him. "Hello, there."

There's a crash from behind the counter. Cas jumps a little. The dog remains steadfast, if only to make sure the ear scritches he's getting will continue.

"Bones!" A deep voice calls from the door situated behind the counter. There are heavy footsteps coming closer. "I swear to God, Bones, if you're harassing a customer again, I'll-"

The man who appears is… Tall. His long hair is tucked behind his ears, and his face is open and earnest. It's pulled long in surprise as he rounds the counter to take in Cas and his dog, basically cuddling in his shop.

"Oh," he says, "jeeze, sorry. Bones, uh… Bones doesn't usually take to new people."

"I've always had a way with animals," Cas says vaguely, pulling himself to standing and giving Bones a last pat on the head. He's referring to the way animals often respond to omegas, but Sam Winchester, lawyer and hardware store owner, doesn't need to know that. "Hello, I'm Castiel Novak. I just moved here."

Sam smiles and shakes Cas' offered hand. "That's great! Sam Winchester, same as the name on the front."

"Jess told me you might be able to help me."

Sam's face lights up, and Cas recognizes the same happiness in Sam that lives on Jess' pretty features. "Sure! I'd be happy to! Uh, with what?"

Cas chuckles. Sam is _precisely_ as Jessica described him _("It's like you took a puppy and shoved it into a six-foot-four human being.")._ "I purchased the older house, a few minutes back into the woods? Jess said you'd know which home I was referring to…"

"Oh, yeah! Man, I can't believe someone _bought_ that…" Sam's cheeks color. "Uh, place. Sorry."

Cas outright laughs. "It's quite all right. I know it's a big project to undertake. I was… Ready for a challenge."

"Well, you got one, all right." Sam's visible discomfort fades. "Where are you gonna start?"

They talk about the house for a while, about the massive amounts of renovations that will be needed. Bones leans against Cas' leg until he gives in and starts the ear scritches back up, at which point the big dog heaves a sigh and leans harder, perfectly content.

Finally, Sam pulls a business card from beneath the register, scribbles a couple of phone numbers onto the back, and hands it to Cas. His brown eyes are still cheerful, but there's caution there that wasn't before.

"That top phone number is mine. Even if I'm at the law firm, you can give me a call and I'll try to help. The other number is my brother's, Dean. He does this stuff full-time, so you can call him whenever. Just…" Sam's eyes dart away for a moment, nervous.

Cas cocks an eyebrow. "Just… What?"

"Dean's a little… Rough around the edges."

"Is he?" Honestly, if people keep warning him away from Dean Winchester, Cas might actually start to get nervous.

 _Can't be worse than anyone I've encountered before,_ he thinks bitterly.

"It's not that he's a bad guy or anything," Sam blurts. "It's just that Dean is… Well, I dunno. He's a little, uh, weird. Quiet. If you give him a chance, though, he'll be able to help you a lot."

"I assure you, Sam, I will appreciate any help at all that your brother will offer me." Cas offers what he hopes is a winning smile while he wonders if he's lying through his teeth.

* * *

Cas pops into the grocery store to buy enough to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for several days. He also picks up coffee, because he would have a killer caffeine headache right now if it wasn't for the soda Jess brought him. He's not sure _how_ he forgot coffee this morning, but he won't again. His first order of business when he gets home, he decides, will be to plug his coffee maker in.

Unfortunately, as he loads the groceries and the few things he got from the hardware store into the house, he forgets to do so. He throws himself back into cleaning, determined to finish at least the top floor today.

Evening falls quickly, taking the light with it. It's not until Cas is squinting at the floor of what will be the library to see if he's gotten all the dirt and dust that he even realizes that it's dark.

He doesn't put much thought into it when he reaches over to flip the light switch. When nothing happens, however, his mind starts racing.

It's mid-spring, so he's just been keeping the windows open and letting in the cool breeze. He hasn't even _thought_ about turning on the central air. He hasn't turned on any of the appliances because he doesn't trust them, and he hasn't had the chance to plug any of his own in. His phone had enough battery to act as an alarm this morning, and he stuck it on the car charger on the way to and from town out of habit.

"Well. Shit."

* * *

Cas goes to bed early, once he works his way through the last of the light. He's tempted to do some of his actual work, but he's too paranoid that his laptop battery will die before he can get the power turned back on. He can't access the internet, anyway.

Cas writes remotely for a national magazine, so he can live anywhere and he makes his own hours. He's taken some time off for the move and subsequent renovation, but he'd prefer to get some work done in the down times.

 _Looks like that's out of the cards,_ he thinks wryly as he slips under the down comforter he unpacked the night before and tries to go to sleep ridiculously early.

* * *

He wakes a little bit before sunrise. It's awful. Cas has never been a morning person. As dramatic as it sounds, he's fairly useless until he has at least a cup of coffee, and it takes two to really wake him up.

Still, he takes a cold shower (thank God the water works, at least) to shake the last of sleep from his mind. He can worry about breakfast and coffee later. Right now, he has a major utility to get fixed.

Once he's dressed, he fishes in yesterday's jeans pockets for the business card Sam Winchester gave him. It's time to call Dean.

The phone rings only twice before a deep, rough voice answers. "'Lo?"

Cas is surprised. His own voice is pretty deep, of course, but Dean Winchester's voice seems more… Unused. As if Dean doesn't talk much, and when he does, it's in one-syllable answers, to limit the use of his voice as much as possible.

Cas realizes that he's been silent for too long and blurts out, "Uh, Dean?"

"... Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry. My name is Castiel Novak. I moved into a house just outside of Dempsey, a few minutes into the woods-"

"The one on Highland?" Dean interrupts.

"Uh, yes. Exactly. I don't suppose Sam mentioned me? I came into the hardware store yesterday and spoke with him."

"Yeah, you want to fix it up."

"I do."

"Gonna be expensive."

"Money's not an issue." That's true. Cas is very well paid for his work, and he took out a hefty loan since he got such a good deal on the mortgage on the house.

Dean hums a little. "What are you thinking first?"

"Well, I was hoping to get your guidance on that, but I've hit a bit of a snag already."

"What's that?"

"There's, uh… There's no electricity."

There's a beat of silence. "Did you just move in today?"

"Um… This will be my third day here."

More silence. "... And you just found out?"

"I was using the natural light to work," Cas protests sheepishly. "And by the time I found out last night, it was outside of business hours."

Dean hums again. "All right," there's just a hint of amusement to his voice, not enough for Cas to be sure, but he suspects someone who knows Dean better would tell him he's right. "Well, I can be there around ten, if that works."

Cas blinks. "So soon?"

"Yeah."

 _The return of one-word answers._ "Very well. Yes, I would appreciate it very much. Ten sounds wonderful."

"See you then." The line goes dead.

Cas pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at it for a moment. _Quiet, indeed,_ he thinks, Sam's words echoing in his head.

He shakes off the thoughts and goes to find his keys. If he wants coffee, he'll have to go into town again to get it.

* * *

The roar of an engine pulls Cas from the cleaning of his kitchen a couple of hours later. He leaves the rag he was using behind and goes to meet Dean on the front porch, eager to get a good look at the man.

When he told Jess this morning that he already had a time set for Dean to come to the house, she actually _squealed._ He went into the hardware store to thank Sam, too, but there was a young Asian man at the counter instead. When Cas explained what he was doing there, Kevin seemed overly enthusiastic about Dean's involvement in his house, too.

 _This is a town full of strange people,_ Cas thinks. He also thinks he could very much get used to it.

A huge beast of a black car rolls up the driveway. It's sleek and beautiful, the engine somehow purring even as it roars its presence. His Continental looks a little dingy as the car pulls up and parks next to it. Cas frowns a little. _Maybe I should get it washed._

A soft breeze picks up as Dean gets out of his car and swings the door shut, and several things become apparent very quickly.

The first is that Dean is _strikingly_ handsome. A strong jawline, straight nose, full lips, and the dusting of freckles across his cheeks make him rather devastating.

The second is that Dean is _big._ He's taller than Cas, almost certainly, and he boasts broad shoulders and a strong chest. His legs bow out a bit as he walks, although somehow his walk manages to not be a swagger regardless.

The third, most obvious, most worrying thing is that the breeze brings Dean's scent crashing into Cas. It is the unmistakable scent of _alpha._

Cas has only met a few alphas in his life. One of the men they asked for directions into town, a stern-faced black man named Gordon, is an alpha. He's the worst kind, brutish and rough. He attempted to use his size to intimidate them, and although Cas is certain the man couldn't scent him, he's incredibly grateful Michael and Gabriel were there with him.

Dean smells better than Gordon did, lighter, somehow, but it's still a deeply alpha scent.

Cas freezes, eyes wide. They widen further when he sees shock on Dean's face as the wind changes and brings his own scent to the alpha. _Didn't put blockers on,_ he thinks frantically, _didn't think I'd need them. What are the chances? What are the fucking chances?_

They stare at one another for long moments before Dean speaks.

"Sam didn't say…"

Cas scoffs. "I certainly don't _advertise_ it."

"I would have smelled…"

"I wear scent blockers." Cas' voice is harsh, defensive, but he refuses to let his body curl in on itself the way it wants to. _You are not a cowering omega,_ he scolds his instincts.

Dean exhales sharply. "Look, I'll just go. There are other carpenters-"

"No," Cas says firmly, surprising himself.

He surprised Dean, too, apparently. The alpha's eyebrows go up. "What?"

Whether or not it was a conscious decision, Cas knows it's the right one. He will not let something ridiculous as hormones rule any part of his life. "I need help, you're the closest available, and you're highly recommended."

It's Dean's turn to scoff. "By my _brother."_

"Nevertheless. We are more than our subgenders, Mr. Winchester. If you're comfortable with it, I'd like to continue our association."

Dean looks exasperated. "Look, it's not… Safe. It's not safe."

Cas thinks on that for just a beat. The stories of omegas being taken against their wills dance in his head, too weak to fight off an alpha. The justice system never caught up with being on an omega's side, unfortunately. Claims of rape were laughed off, kidnappings and forced matings abounded.

 _Don't be alone with an alpha. Don't speak with strange alphas. Be respectful of alphas, they might get angry and… Well, you know._ The whispers were apparently abundant before, but they do still happen on occasion. Especially to skinny, verbose kids with fluffy black hair who just presented as omegas.

Cas doesn't want to live in fear.

Cas doesn't want to be afraid in his new home.

Cas doesn't want to be afraid of _Dean._

"I think I'll decide that for myself," he says finally.

There's another long staring contest before Dean shrugs, resigned. "Whatever."

Cas beams. "Wonderful."

* * *

The first few minutes of the tour are tense, to say the least, but as they go through each room and he explains what he wants, Cas finds himself relaxing, warming to his subject. He keeps an ironclad control on his scent, and Dean does the same. The lack of the overwhelming scent of emotions goes a long way toward easing the tension between them.

The only whiff Cas gets is when he explains what he wants for the library. The faint smell of pleased alpha wafts through the air. Cas only barely keeps the surprise off of his face, but he's suffused with a sort of warmth at the thought that Dean likes his idea.

Dean has a notebook similar to Cas' where he writes down everything Cas says. Once they get through the house (and damn, Cas wishes he'd gotten the kitchen clean before Dean got here) (not that he cares what Dean thinks, of course), Dean taps his pen against the paper and gives the house one last long look.

"What do you think?" Cas asks.

Dean shrugs. "Doable. Like I said. Expensive."

"I can afford it."

Another shrug. "I'll call you later with an estimate."

When he does call a few hours later, Cas narrows his eyes in suspicion at the number. Either Dean wildly undervalues his skills, or he's cutting Cas one hell of a deal.

"That's… Not quite what I had in mind."

He hears the shifting of fabrics and can see Dean's shrug in his mind. "It is what it is."

"Well, then, you've got yourself a job, Mr. Winchester."

"Uh, Dean."

"Pardon?"

"Call me Dean."

Cas smiles. "Very well, Dean."

"I'll come out tomorrow morning and we'll set a schedule."

"I look forward to it."

* * *

They establish a rhythm for working together in the next few days that Cas is surprised to find himself enjoying immensely.

Working with Dean is remarkably peaceful. He shows up early, just after Cas is finished with breakfast (Dean got the electric company to get the power lines fixed that first afternoon, so Cas can at least plug in his coffee maker now). Cas will casually leave a coffee mug for the alpha, and it's quietly gone, mug rinsed out in the sink, by the time Dean leaves every day.

They start in the guest bedroom. They tear down the wallpaper, then strip, finish, and wax the floor and trim. Once all the woodwork is shining, they paint the walls and ceiling using a soft white. Dean installs a ceiling fan.

The work until lunch each day, when Dean goes back into town. He politely but firmly declines every one of Cas' offers to buy or make him lunch (infuriating, but understandable). Sometimes Dean comes back after, but he mostly stays away. It makes sense, this is a big project, and as the only carpenter/electrician/handyman in the area, Dean has several other clients.

While they finish the guest bedroom and start on the library, Cas learns a lot about Dean.

Dean _is_ quiet, but Dean is also wickedly intelligent. Any time they hit a snag, he's able to guide them toward a solution with gentle confidence. If they come up against a problem he hasn't encountered (very rare), he stands and stares at whatever it is for a long time. It sort of looks like he's not doing anything, but his eyes are scanning the problem slowly, methodically, until whatever it is gives up the answers.

Dean can hold his own in a conversation, he's just selective about the words he chooses. He doesn't speak much, no, but he and Cas talk about all manner of books, movies, politics, their families, anything that comes to mind. Well, no, mostly _Cas_ talks about these things, but there's no confusion or misunderstanding in Dean's eyes as he nods along, making one- or two-word contributions.

They both still work to keep their scents as even as possible, but prolonged contact with him was always bound to make Cas more sensitive to Dean. Like the way he usually smells content while he's there, working side-by-side with Cas. When he suggests something and Cas takes it to heart, the air is faintly tinged with _pleased._ Or, when Cas sticks to his guns despite Dean's advice _("No, I want dark wood for the library shelves." "Gonna make it feel smaller." A stubborn pause. "Regardless.")_ the scent of amusement makes it difficult for Cas to keep a smile off of his face.

Two weeks later, the day that they're finished with the stairs, Cas realizes he likes the alpha. A _lot._

* * *

Cas can't reasonably explain why he doesn't want Dean to see his bedroom. The alpha didn't press or argue, just nodded once and continued down the hall to the library when Cas protested his entry.

Cas works on it while Dean is elsewhere, usually in the evenings when he himself doesn't have to work. He doesn't think about the significance of the choices he makes in there, or the choice of secrecy.

* * *

"But stainless steel is going to look better," Cas insists, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.

Dean's eyes sparkle. "Gonna be a bitch to clean."

"... But they'll look so much _better."_

Dean's _(lovely… wait, what?)_ mouth twitches up at the corner as the alpha fights a smile. "Right, but-"

An abrupt knocking at the front door interrupts him. They both turn to look at the door. Cas frowns, running through the list of people he knows who would just show up. It's a short list, and they all know that it would be best to call him first. His cell phone is in his pocket, and it hasn't gone off once.

He glances at Dean, who's looking at the front door with a furrowed brow. He's still relaxed, his scent the same as it was before, but his long, muscled body is tense, coiled for action. It's rather… Well, it's rather hot.

(Cas tries not to think of Dean that way, he really does, but just _look at the man.)_

He goes to answer the door slowly, almost surprised when Dean doesn't follow him closely. He shouldn't be, Dean has never been a typical alpha in any sense. Cas knows that Dean would come to his defense if need be, but there's no reason for Dean to suddenly become overbearing just because someone's knocking at the door.

When he opens it, his eyebrows hit his hairline. " _Michael?"_

* * *

Out of his two brothers, Michael has always been the most "protective." Cas tends to think that most of what his brother does is sexist nonsense, but he knows Michael's heart is in the right place. While Gabe is content to treat Cas as an equal, Michael has always been under the impression that he needs to be protected.

* * *

"Castiel," Michael says with a smile. "I had to come up here for business, thought I'd stop by. See how the house is coming along, stay in that guest bedroom tonight."

Cas frowns. "You could have called. I have company."

Michael's eyes flit behind Cas, his smile still on his handsome face. "Oh! Well, you know, I can come back later, once you-"

Cas can practically _see_ the moment Dean's scent hits Michael's nose. He's a beta, so it's not nearly as strong as it is to Cas, but Dean smells so much like an alpha it would be hard to mistake it for anything else under any circumstance.

"Cas," Michael hisses, his face twisting with confusion and anger. "What is… _That_ doing here?"

Cas' eyebrows go up again. "His name is Dean," he says slowly. "He's helping me with the house. He's actually been-"

"You're letting an _alpha_ into the house?" Michael's voice is thick with incredulity.

"... Yes?"

"He's _dangerous,_ Cas."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Oh, for God's sake, Michael, he is not. He's a friend."

"He cannot be a _friend._ Don't you remember _anything_ about alphas?" Michael isn't trying to be quiet by any means, and Cas is sure that Dean can hear them from the kitchen. He opens his mouth to shush his brother, but Michael is already plowing ahead.

"They think with their _knots,_ they're _disgusting._ You may think he's a 'friend,' but he's just waiting, Cas. He's just waiting for you to lower your guard enough so that he can attack you. You have to get him out of here."

Anger is starting to beat at Cas' temples. "For fuck's sake, Michael. He's a _human being,_ and he is not lying in wait to _claim_ me, for fuck's sake. Not to mention that he can _hear us-"_

"Good," Michael snarls. "He _should_ know that someone knows he's here, and that _someone_ is watching. _Someone_ who cares about you, Cas," he says loudly, obnoxiously, moving forward to get into the house. "And I won't let anyone hurt him!"

The implications, the _accusations,_ in Michael's words are so infuriating they make Cas a little dizzy. That Dean would _ever_ try to hurt Cas, that Cas wouldn't be able to defend himself if he was attacked. That just because Castiel is an omega and Dean is an alpha, they can never be left alone without Cas being in danger.

Cas is so angry on Dean's behalf, nevermind his own. Dean, who is gentle and sweet and smart and kind. That anyone could think anything bad of the alpha at all, simply because of his biology, is ridiculous. Dean is _wonderful._

(Later, Cas will look back on this moment and see it for what it really is.)

"Michael," he says, voice frosty and brittle enough that the beta finally looks at him. "You're my brother, and I love you. But you are a great big bag of dicks." _Thank you, Gabriel._

Michael's blue eyes, so like Cas' own, widen in shock. "What?"

"You're leaving now. I don't care where you go, stay in a hotel or something. But you're leaving now."

"Cas, I-"

"Dean has been a _wonderful_ friend," Cas hisses. "He is the _only_ person who knows what I am and hasn't treated me _any_ differently for it, which is something you _absolutely_ cannot claim. I want you out of this house and off of my property. You'll be welcome back when you've learned some manners."

Michael is staring incredulously at him, but Cas just crosses his arms and glares. Anger is beating at his temples, and he's actively fighting the urge to snarl, like his instincts are telling him to do. His brother doesn't have those instincts, it would just make him think that Cas is a crazy person.

They have a long stand-off before Michael throws his hands in the air. " _Fine,"_ he snaps. "But I'll be back, Cas, don't you worry. I'll-"

"You'll call first," Cas says firmly, voice still cold. "And I will let you know when you can come back."

Michael stares for another moment before abruptly turning on his heel and storming back to his car. The tires squeal as he tears out of the driveway and onto the road. Cas notices with a vicious sort of satisfaction that his big brother is speeding.

"Assbutt," he spits before going back into his home to find his guest.

It's not difficult. Dean is in the kitchen, but Cas can smell him quite clearly from two rooms away. There's no anger in his scent, remarkably enough, but the air is thick with shame and self-loathing. Cas has to ignore the impulse to cover his nose with his shirt as he enters the kitchen.

Dean is standing at the counter, unmoved from where he was a few minutes ago. He's slightly slouched, his shoulders bent with the weight of despair. His hands are gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles are whitening.

Cas approaches him slowly, but he's not afraid at all. "Dean?"

"Shouldn't have done that," the alpha says softly.

Cas frowns. "He was being an asshole."

"He was right."

Cas' jaw actually drops. " _What?"_

Dean doesn't turn around. "Alphas are bad, Cas. It's not safe to be around us. Around _me."_

Cas finally comes to stand next to Dean. His inner omega is whining to curl into Dean and offer warmth and physical comfort. He settles for placing a gentle hand on Dean's arm. He pretends not to notice the way the alpha flinches under the touch but doesn't pull away.

"Who told you that?" Cas demands. "Who told you that you're-"

"No one," Dean interrupts. "Alphas are _bad,_ we just are." It's getting very hard to breathe as Dean's disgust floods the air. He's apparently not even trying to control his scent in his distress.

"Everyone knows it," Dean continues. "We hurt people. We hurt _omegas."_

The pain in Dean's voice, coupled with the way he's stubbornly refusing to look at Cas, has Cas' inner omega howling. It's almost funny how their combined scents, totally uncontrolled for the first time, have made Cas' subgender go haywire. He wonders if Dean is experiencing the same, an if that's contributing to what's going on right now.

"Dean," he says gently, struggling to find the right words and not to sneeze at the same time. "Just because alphas are bigger and stronger doesn't mean they're _bad._ You're not _bad."_ He tugs until those green eyes reluctantly meet his own. "Dean, you're _not bad._ Look at how often you've been here, how often we've been alone, and you've never even come close to hurting me."

He can see in Dean's eyes that he wants to believe. There's something there that says he wants to think that he's not bad. Cas keeps his gaze as steady and reassuring as possible.

In the end, Dean looks away, and part of Cas' heart breaks.

"I should go."

"... If that's what you want."

* * *

That night, Cas sits in front of a blank word processor document on his laptop, trying to focus enough to get this article written.

He's lucky enough that when the university found out that he's an omega, they simply looked at the whole situation as a potential discrimination lawsuit and mostly left him alone. Maybe a few of his professors had derogatory opinions, but they had the good sense to keep them to themselves if they did.

As soon as he graduated, Cas left Pontiac, Illinois almost fast enough to leave dust in his wake. He was also lucky in that one of his professors liked him so much that she sent a recommendation letter to the magazine that ultimately ended up hiring him. It afforded him a remarkable amount of freedom, especially for an omega.

As he stares at his laptop, which remains steadfastly unhelpful, he thinks about Dean.

Even as omegas are thought to be weak, mindless, and frail, alphas are thought to be violent, nasty, out of control. It's widely believed that alphas aren't very smart, which is why they're so gifted in every other way.

Cas has to wonder now how Dean, who's so incredibly kind and gentle, was treated growing up. He got the impression from Jess that the Winchester brothers grew up around here, so they're probably from a small town.

How often was Dean subjected to discrimination? Women pulling their children away from him, unable to smell the heartbreak coming from the alpha because they were betas. Men challenging him at every step, determined to beat the alpha in tests of strength or speed, though Dean probably didn't care one way or another? How many times has Dean had to just keep his head down and try to keep moving forward, despite everyone around him having preconceived notions of who he is?

 _It's almost enough to make you a quiet, cautious carpenter,_ Cas muses. _Maybe even enough to make you believe it of yourself, that you're dangerous and stupid and mean. Maybe enough to make you almost refuse to be alone with an omega, thinking that you're a danger to them._

Cas doesn't get any work done that night.

* * *

Cas is only mildly surprised that Dean comes back the next day. He didn't really think the alpha would leave him high and dry, but he worried a little.

What drives him crazy is how they act like nothing happened.

Dean's scent is even and controlled again. Cas can barely even smell the vague scents he caught before. Reluctantly, Cas does the same thing. Though he wants to keep their scents open, he also wants to respect Dean's wishes on the matter. The alpha's silence and his blank scent make those quite clear.

Things go mostly back to the way they were before Michael's disastrous visit, but there's a new tension in their interactions that Cas hates. Their conversations are stilted and awkward. Dean never even gives Cas the _chance_ to invite him to stay for lunch, he tends to flee every morning. Dean has also stopped coming back after lunch. Oh, sure, maybe he's busy with other clients, but Cas doesn't think so.

Maybe he should let it lie. Maybe a friendship between he and Dan doesn't make sense, would never work.

But Cas has never done well when someone told him that he couldn't do something, and he staunchly refuses to let this lie.

* * *

A week and a half after the _incident,_ they're painting in the kitchen side-by-side. Cas wants to get it done before the new appliances arrive, or else Dean would probably be somewhere else in the house entirely. That wasn't really on accident, the alpha feeling obliged to stand next to Cas for a prolonged period of time. The omega comforts himself in that it's the only way.

Without prompting, Cas begins to speak.

"I met Balthazar in my last semester of college." He feels a bitter smile pull at the corners of his mouth. "He was a beta, suave, charismatic, handsome. So many things I'm not."

Dean has stilled in his work, and Cas can feel his green gaze burning into the side of his face, but he doesn't look up from where his own hands are working.

"I was smitten immediately, and we were incredibly close incredibly fast. It wasn't a big leap when we started dating, I don't think anyone was particularly surprised.

"I was so _nervous_ about telling him that I'm an omega. We had been dating for weeks, but I told him that I wanted to take it slow. I didn't…" Cas swallows. "I didn't want him to find out while we were in bed, and it's… Hard to hide."

"Cas…" There are a lot of sentiments in that one word. _I'm sorry. You don't have to do this. Why are you telling me this?_

Cas ignores all of them. "We were at home when he found out. We were making out and it got… I mean, it got out of hand. I got wet." Cas can tell that Dean is controlling his scent, being careful, but Cas himself is already lost to the memory. "He grabbed my ass, his hand was in my pants, and he… He asked if I prepped myself." He barks out a humorless laugh. "I sat back and cleared my head and I finally told him. He…"

Cas lets his eyes fall closed, leaving the sun-drenched kitchen where he's working side by side with Dean and going into a dark living room in a small loft with a man he likes much less than he likes the alpha. "He laughed. He said he would never have started seeing me if he had known. Called me names, slurs, the whole nine yards. I was hurt, of course, but I wasn't in _love_ with him by any means. I told him we didn't have to continue seeing one another and asked for his discretion before I also asked him to leave. I thought that was the end of it.

"It wasn't. Not only was he _not_ discrete, he must have sent out a goddamn _newsletter._ It was all over campus, all of the sudden, that Castiel Novak was an omega. The slurs got worse, and I was beaten up quite a few times. Luckily, I only had a few weeks of the semester left, so I stuck it out. Michael and Gabriel wanted me to leave school immediately, but I told them to stuff it with their sexist bullshit and I'd do exactly what I wanted to do."

When he finally looks back at Dean, there's an unreadable look shining in the alpha's green eyes. It seems to be positive, though, so Cas smiles.

"So, Dean Winchester, when I say that you're not bad, or violent, or _whatever_ because you're an alpha, it's because subgender does not dictate personality or morals. Anyone can be awful regardless of their reproductive systems. The people who drove me out of the town I lived in were betas."

He leans forward to cup Dean's face in one hand. A smear of cheerful yellow paint is left behind on the alpha's jaw. "When you found out I was an omega, you tried to leave to protect me. Even if you were working with erroneous information, you were still willing to lose out on the job, the money I was offering, just to make sure I was safe. You're a _wonderful_ person, Dean, and I'm honored to know you."

Dean's eyes are warm now, and he's tilted his face just a bit into Cas' touch. "Cas, I…"

There's a beat of silence, of affectionate eye contact, before Cas turns back and begins to paint again. "And I _still_ think stainless steel would look better."

Dean pauses for another moment before alpha amusement floods the air, making Cas close his eyes for a moment to savor the return of Dean's scent.

"Still gonna be a bitch to clean."

* * *

The next two weeks are the best Cas has had since he moved to Kansas. He and Dean move together and around each other as if they've done it for years, like it's a smooth dance they've practiced over and over again.

They've stopped guarding their scents, too. The whole house carries their combined smells. The scent of pleased alpha, content omega, and a dozen other emotions make the whole place smell like home. For Cas, anyway.

Dean even finally lets Cas cook for him a couple of times. The way he feels when he's cooking, chattering a bit (Cas can be quite talkative when he's comfortable) while Dean sits at the table and watches with a smile, offering short comments or replies here and there, is something that Cas could get wildly addicted to.

Cas is fully aware that he's falling for Dean. He's becoming entranced with the quiet alpha, the kind intelligence in his eyes, and his big gentle hands. It's not that Dean is handsome, although he obviously is. It's Dean's beautiful, generous soul, which shines through everything he does and says.

Yes, Cas is falling hard and fast, and he's perfectly okay with it. Everything is going very well.

Until he goes into heat.

* * *

"'Lo?"

"Hello, Dean. You don't have to come here today."

He can hear the frown in Dean's voice. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, yes, I…" Cas sighs. "My suppressants have failed. I'm going into heat."

"... Are you… Uh, okay?"

"Yes, quite. Just irritated at the failure. You probably don't need to come for a week, that's how long they usually last."

"Do you have everything you… Uh, that you n-need?" Cas can almost see the way Dean's cheeks color in a blush.

He smiles. "Yes, I'm all right, Dean. I'll see you in a week?"

There's a beat of silence, then, "See you then, Cas."

* * *

Cas is only able to stave off the stomach pains and intense desire for a few hours before he pulls out his fake knot that hasn't been used for years. He strips quickly and gets onto his hands and knees, already shuddering and whimpering in the back of his throat. When he finally sinks the toy into himself, gasping at the stretch, he thinks of Dean, how quiet and strong he is, how wonderful.

How much he wishes Dean were here, taking care of him now.

* * *

A week later, Cas is exhausted, sweaty, and sore. The day he wakes up and feels no desire to do anything but shower, he's a bit ashamed to admit that he cries for a while before he manages to get into the shower and wash away a week of fucking himself on a fake knot, sweat and slick and come. He stays in there for a long time, letting the heat and water loosen muscles that have hardened into cramps and soreness. After that, he changes the sheets, tosses the dirty laundry into the washing machine _(thank you, Dean, for installing those before you left last week),_ crawls back into a clean bed, and falls into the first restful sleep he's had in a week.

* * *

When he wakes up, he feels a hundred times better, but he's _starving._ He's been eating granola bars and Pop-Tarts for a week, and he knows there's nothing that's not at least mostly spoiled in the refrigerator. The only thing for it is to leave the house.

He gets dressed quickly. He's got a touch of cabin fever, so even though he usually prefers staying home, he's a little grateful for the opportunity to go somewhere. He grabs his wallet and his keys and heads out the door.

When he gets to town, he realizes that it's Friday night. It's warm out, just the beginning of summer now, and there are people everywhere. Well, as many people that can be everywhere when the town is as small as Dempsey is, but the point remains. There are crowds of people walking up and down Main street, and it makes Cas smile.

He parks on the far end of the street, thinking the walk down to the restaurant will be good for his sore, stiff legs. He puts both hands in his pockets and starts toward his goal, already smiling a bit thinking of seeing Jess' smile light up the room, or listen to her talk seemingly without stopping to take a breath.

And maybe he thinks a bit about seeing Dean, smelling the alpha right now, when he's still just a touch heat drunk. Letting the alpha smell him, engaging in a dynamic that only the two of them will know about in a roomful of betas.

It's as these thoughts are going through Cas' head that a hand fists in the back of his shirt and he's yanked into the alley between the bookstore and the salon. "Wha-"

"Fuckin' _knew_ you were a knotslut," a slow, deep voice growls in his ear as a hard body shoves him up against the wall. The rough brick of the salon scrapes against his cheek.

"I-"

"Think I can't smell that fuckin' heat-stink on you, bitch?" _Gordon,_ Cas realizes as the rank smell of the alpha swarms his senses. "Practically begging for it, smelling like that." He punctuates this thought by grinding his hips into Cas' ass. The huge erection he feels sends fear spiking through the omega.

Cas can't count the number of times he was assaulted on campus. People seemed to believe that because he was an omega, he would simply lay back and take whatever they wanted to do to him.

As a result of those tumultuous few weeks, Cas knows how to defend himself. Against betas.

Unfortunately, Gordon isn't a beta.

As Cas begins to struggle, the alpha uses pure physical strength to keep him pinned. Every attempt to twist away is met with an iron grip, and he's pushed into the wall so hard that he can't draw breath to cry out.

Gordon must notice. "Now, now, no screamin'," he purrs, and Cas' skin crawls. "Not when _we_ both know you really want this."

"No!" Cas manages to gasp out. "Please, no, I-"

"Shh, bitch. I know what you need."

 _There's nothing for it,_ Cas thinks, his own scent thickening in despair. _He's going to rape me. He's-_

Gordon's hips back off and Cas' blood runs cold when he hears a zipper being drawn down. Then the alpha is back against him, grinding against Cas' ass.

"Come on, you little bitch," Gordon growls. "Know you want this. Practically gagging for it. Gonna get you nice and wet for me."

Utter horror rises up in Cas when he feels a big hand reach around and start groping at his front. His eyes slip closed, welling with tears. "Please," he whispers, still fruitlessly struggling. "Please don't do this."

Gordon fists a hand in the back of Cas' hair and uses the grip to slam the omega's head against the wall. Cas yelps as lights flash in his eyes.

"Shut _up,"_ Gordon hisses. "We both know you want it. Stop struggling. You-"

The scent of protective alpha rage clears all other scents from Cas' nose in an instant, his own terror and Gordon's sick desire gone as a roar comes from the other end of the alley.

"What the fu-" Gordon's words are cut off by a terrifying snarl, and then the weight is yanked off of Cas.

Slowly, he turns to see Dean beating Gordon mercilessly. The sound of knuckles hitting flesh is strangely comforting in this context.

His alpha is lovely in his fury. His eyes glitter with anger in the scant street lights that shine in the alley. His lips are pulled back into an animalistic snarl as he hits Gordon over and over again.

Suddenly worried that Dean might do something terrible, Cas croaks, "Dean." There's no response so he says it louder, more sharply. " _Dean!"_

The alpha stops and his eyes swing wildly to land on Cas. As soon as they do, all of the aggression immediately disappears. He immediately stands, leaving Gordon on the ground, and makes his way to where Cas is leaning tiredly against the wall.

Dean keeps his hands held out at his sides, clearly trying to appear non-threatening. He's also trying to control his emotions so his scent will even out, like he doesn't want Cas to be scared.

As if Cas could ever be afraid of Dean.

As soon as the alpha is close enough, Cas falls into him. Dean's arms come around him and hold him close, comforting rather than confining. It's not until he feels the alpha start to card his fingers through his hair and murmur in his ear that Cas realizes that he's started to sob.

"Shh, baby," Dean coos softly. "I've gotcha, baby, you're okay. Did he hurt you? Shh, I've got you, you're safe, sweetheart."

Cas cries into Dean's shirt for a few long minutes. The shock and fear of the last few moments completely overtake him. He lets it all out in the safety of his alpha's arms, against his strong chest.

"I've gotcha, sweetheart, you're safe now." Dean is still whispering, running the hand not in Cas' hair up and down his back.

Cas sniffles and pulls back to look up at Dean. He takes in a watery, shuddery breath under Dean's watchful, worried gaze.

"You saved me," he whispers.

"Did he hurt you?"

Suddenly, Cas' head is throbbing, and his arms where Gordon gripped him. His cheek stings where the wall scraped against it. "Only a little."

Normally, being so close to an alpha when they growl like Dean does in that moment is rather terrifying. The scent of protectiveness and anger pouring off of Dean, however, makes Cas feel safe and comforted instead. He leans into the rumbling chest.

"I'm all right, alpha. You got here before he… Got anywhere."

Dean closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. Without thinking, Cas reaches up to cup the back of Dean's head and guides his alpha to his own neck.

Dean stiffens but doesn't pull away. "It's okay," Cas whispers. "I want you to. You need it as much as I do."

Oh, so gently, Dean starts to nuzzle Cas' neck. "You, too, then. If… If it'll help…"

Cas turns to scent the alpha as Dean does the same to him. This close to the scent gland, Dean's smell is ten times stronger. It soaks deep into Cas' bones, settling the remaining shakes, banishing the last of the panic back.

Cas isn't sure how long they stand there scenting one another, but it's probably only a few minutes. They're finally pulled away from each other by a deep groan from the man on the ground. They turn to look at him together, but Cas is still feeling needy and raw, so he presses his cheek to Dean's.

"What do you wanna do with him?" Dean asks. His voice is a lot calmer than it was before.

Cas debates, chewing on his lip. "I suppose we should call the police." He sighs. "But this will out me as an omega pretty definitively."

Dean leans back to look him in the eye. "Cas… I want you to do what you want to do. I'll be here for you either way. But the sheriff is a good lady. She was… Uh, real good about my subgender when I ran into trouble before."

Cas looks into Dean's eyes for a long moment, taking in the reassurance and compassion in the green depths before he nods.

"All right, then. We'll call her."

* * *

Sheriff Jody Mills somehow manages to be sympathetic, authoritative, and efficient all at the same time. If Cas wasn't in shock, he'd probably be a little in love with her.

 _(And if you weren't deep, deep like with the alpha._

 _Hush.)_

She takes one look at Gordon, still groaning on the ground, and declares it an "open and shut case." She then decides he "must have fallen" after he attacked Cas, blatantly ignores the blood on Dean's knuckles, and tells Cas to come to the station the next day to file an official report.

All in all, it's only about an hour between Dean's phone call and Sheriff Mills none-too-gently shoving Gordon into the back of her squad car. It's still only evening, with the sun just now finishing its descent.

Cas leans shamelessly against Dean as the alpha waves to the sheriff. He thinks they're probably past the point of pretending there's nothing between them, and Dean's arm is already wrapped around his shoulders, warm and comforting.

Finally, Dean looks down at him. "Doin' okay?"

Cas nods. "I think so. I'm cold, though."

"Shock," Dean replies, pulling Cas closer to his warmth, which he snuggles into gratefully.

"I suppose."

"How's your head?"

"Okay," Cas hedges.

"Liar." The word is fond, though.

It makes Cas smile. "It might be the tiniest bit sore." His stomach chooses that moment to rumble loudly. Embarrassed, he presses one hand to his belly. "I also might be hungry."

Dean chuckles and presses a kiss to his temple. "Yeah, I was on my way to eat with Sammy and Jess when I… Uh, when I smelled you."

Cas shudders. "I'm glad you did," he says softly.

"Me, too, sweetheart." Dean kisses his head and squeezes him again. "Come on, let's eat."

* * *

Dean, as it turns out, is an alpha with a plan.

When they get to the restaurant, Cas is still feeling a little overexposed and twitchy. Dean wraps a blanket from the backseat around him and bundles him into the Impala. That done, he goes into the restaurant alone.

Cas watches through the windows as Dean flags Jess down and speaks to her. Her pretty face goes through shock, anger, and sympathy in surprisingly rapid succession before she nods and hurries to the back of the restaurant.

Cas watches Dean as he waits for her return. _He's so… Still._ If it were Cas in there, he'd be fidgeting or checking his phone. Dean just leans against the front counter, hands in his pockets, observing the people around him. It's wonderful, that steadiness around the alpha.

When Jess comes back with a big bag, Dean hands her a few bills, takes the bag, kisses her on the cheek, then hurries back to the car.

He slides in with an endearingly shy smile. "Figured Rufus'd make an exception for us just this once and let us take an order to go."

The feeling of being taken care of warms Cas from the inside out. He huddles further into his blanket and smiles at his alpha. "That sounds wonderful, Dean."

* * *

Dean takes them back to Cas' place, and they end up sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, since the table hasn't been delivered yet, with the food spread out between them. Dean knows Cas well, apparently, because there's a huge burger in front of him with a pile of fries that's almost as tall. There's a big lemonade in a paper cup, too, and he thinks he smells pie still in the bag.

Cas knows that he needs to eat. He knows that his heat took its toll, not to mention the assault and resulting shock. He just… _Can't._

Now that they're not on the move, now that the only thing left to do is take care of himself, he _can't._ He can't stop thinking about how cold and dark the alley was, or how Gordon's hot, disgusting breath wafted over the back of his neck, just where-

"Cas?"

When he looks at Dean, shaken by his own thoughts, concern is etched all over the alpha's features. Cas opens his mouth to assure Dean that he's all right, but his breath hitches, and he finds himself unable to say a word.

Dean's face softens in understanding. "Hey," he says, and Cas braces himself for meaningless platitudes.

"Have I ever told you how Sam and I opened the hardware store?"

Cas blinks, then slowly shakes his head.

Dean smiles. "Okay, so when I turned eighteen…"

And so Castiel Novak learns about Dean Winchester.

He learns that Dean's mother died in a house fire when he was still a pup, and that he carried Sam out of that fire. He learns that John Winchester drank heavily for six months before a family friend, Bobby Singer, came into town and kicked his ass. Once he was reminded that he had children, he got his act together, but working full time and raising two children was hard, and more often than not the boys were left alone.

Cas is regaled with stories of Dean raising Sam. Of forged permission slips, sneaking out of the house, and worshipping his strict but loving father. Of when Dean went into rut for the first time and his father absolutely panicked and called nine-one-one.

Dean sobers a bit as they eat the last of the pie slices and he talks about the car crash that killed his father and totalled the Impala, but from which Dean himself walked away from. He tells Cas about fixing the Impala up, then feeling a bit lost for a year.

Until Sam got into Stanford.

In the same bundle of mail that Sam got his acceptance letter came the settlement check from John's death. It wasn't enough to cover quite everything Sam needed, but it was enough to start a hardware store in a small town that needed one so that Dean could continue to support his brother. When Sam finished school, he came to Dempsey, too, meeting Jess and signing on to work at the local law firm.

As Dean starts talking about how he thinks his brother's wife is pregnant because he can smell it, but he still wants them to be surprised so he hasn't said anything, Cas really thinks about the alpha in front of him. This man, who's strong and silent and capable and so incredibly sweet. This man who saved Cas tonight. Who brought him home, fed him, wrapped him up in one of his own quilts, and talked to him so he wouldn't be alone.

 _Ah, who am I kidding? I'm in love with him._

"Dean?"

The alpha cuts off and zeroes in on him. "Yeah?"

"Is this a date?"

The blush hits Dean's cheeks so fast Cas almost worries that he'll pass out. "What? Uh, what? No, uh, I didn't, I mean... No? Uh, no. I didn't-"

"Because I would very much like it to be."

Dean's eyebrows shoot to his hairline. "You… Would?"

"Yes please."

Dean's smile is wide and brilliant and it immediately makes Cas' inside go warm and goopy. "All right," the alpha says, "then yeah. Okay."

Cas smiles back. "Good." He waits a beat, then says, deliberately casual, "You should know I don't put out on the first date."

The way Dean spits his drink across the floor is worth the resulting cleanup.

* * *

A week later, as it so happens, Cas puts out on the _second_ date.

* * *

Dean loops an arm around Cas' bare stomach and turns them, sweaty and sated, onto their sides. Cas is grateful for it, considering that Dean is huge (in more ways than one), and he doesn't particularly fancy getting squished while they come down.

He shifts a little to get comfortable and it tugs on Dean's knot, making them both gasp and Dean orgasm again weakly. The alpha growls against the back of his neck, sending a shiver down Cas' spine, but he doesn't stop gently petting and caressing every bit of Cas that he can reach. It's his alpha instinct to take care of Cas in this moment, just as it's Cas' omega purring at the way the alpha is soothing him.

Cas has never believed the riot about having sex with an alpha being better than with a beta, but he knows now he was wrong. The way their scents combined, the way Dean knew precisely when to be rough and when to be gentle, and the way Dean's teeth clamped down on the back of his neck, but not _quite_ hard enough to break skin, those things have only ever happened with an alpha. This alpha.

 _My alpha,_ Cas' inner omega coos, and for once, he's in agreeance.

"I think I love you, you know," he says gently.

He feels Dean's smile against his skin. "I know," he replies. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

* * *

 _ **Epilogue**_

Cas supposes it's a bit corny that he painted his bedroom the color of Dean's eyes. If he thinks about it, _especially_ that he did it before he and Dean were together, he still feels the heat of a blush on his cheeks, even two years later. He couldn't say _why_ he kept it secret, and they've never really discussed it, but he thinks Dean appreciated it.

"Cas!"

Cas shakes his head from stray thoughts and moves to join his mate in the guest bedroom.

Well. What _was_ the guest bedroom.

"Sure about this?" Dean asks as he glances over at Cas.

In his mate's eyes are all of the questions he's really asking, the questions that one has to know Dean for a bit before they can read. _Are you okay? How are you feeling? Are you scared? Are you as scared as_ I _am? Are you sure about all this?_

Cas puts a hand on his belly, just barely starting to swell, and smiles up at his alpha. "I am."

Dean nods, presses a gentle kiss to Cas' cheek, and picks up the bucket of light green paint Cas picked for the nursery.

"All right, sweetheart."

* * *

 _ **\- TRIGGER WARNINGS:** Attempted rape (Gordon attempts to rape Cas), homophobic/sexist language, discrimination._

 _\- I don't know where this came from, but it sat me down and demanded to be written two weeks ago, so here we are._

 _\- Feedback gets my motor running!_


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